Claiborne
by Hjalti Talos
Summary: A young Breton archer, a member of the High Rock Ranger Corps (I got this idea that every province has a Ranger Corps to serve the province), adventures through High Rock, among other places, and meets some fun and colourful characters along the way. A story full of DANGER, INTRIGUE, and even the Dovahkiin, Valor! (from Dragonfire and Dragonsoul) The story is set in 187 4E.
1. Chapter 1

Claiborne

Although Claiborne was a Breton among the High Rock Rangers, he wore his father's Bosmer archer armor. Many didn't take kindly to this, as Valenwood had sided itself with Alinor to form the Aldmeri Dominion not long ago, but just as many respected him for it and understood that he was simply honoring his father and heritage, his commander among the latter. Claiborne was of higher rank, so he could travel all throughout High Rock, sending flying, pointy justice wherever he found it.

Claiborne had no features to distinguish him from any other Breton; he had fair skin, long, slightly curled, dark brown hair, which he kept tied back, with full chop sideburns. He had large eyebrows, blue eyes, a narrowed, pursed mouth, and a prominent jaw with a ballish chin. If he were to adorn his mask and use his skills in archery, some might mistake him for a pale Bosmer, while if he used magic he would be mistaken as an Altmer from afar, and if he used his skills with a blade, many would take him for a Nord.

Claiborne's skill as an archer was renowned, though, and he had his father to thank for that, not just training but also heritage, as there are no greater natural archers in Tamriel than the Wood Elves. Currently, he was in a shooting blind that he had set up in a tree a few miles northwest of Wayrest, just along the road. He knew that this particular stretch of road was dangerous, and littered with bandits waiting to ambush any cart or well-dressed citizen that happened by.

He could see a cart carrying chests and large bolts of cloth, likely for a merchant or perhaps the King of Wayrest. He nocked an arrow onto the string and set it in the rest, waiting for the first sign of trouble. Beneath his eye, he caught sight of a human form, when he looked down he saw a knight from Wayrest. Claiborne continued to examine the cart until it looked about the size of a crabapple, for that was when it was set upon by five bandits. The cart stopped when the leader drew his blade from the frog, but before anyone could react, it seemed like all of the raiders had been shot simultaneously. The cart driver and his passenger looked around them in shock and awe, viewing the spectacle around them, what group of merry men could have pulled off such a feat?

It was then that an arrow stuck into the backrest of the cart, the thumping sound making the two atop the cart nearly jump out of their own skin. There was a note tied near the middle of the shaft, which, when unwrapped, read, "Be along your way, I'll be there to clean up eventually, if the knight doesn't first. Sincerely, Claiborne of the High Rock Ranger Corps". Upon reading, the pair stared at it in shock while the driver snapped the reins once again, how could one man have performed _that_ kind of feat alone? They had heard the stories, for sure, but to see it in action was truly the most amazing thing they had ever seen.

"You there, carriage driver," the knight said, "are you and your companion all right? Have either of you suffered any injuries?"

"No, Sir Knight, thank you, a Ranger from the Corps saved us!" The passenger replied, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Pah," the knight replied, "that group of petty archers are little better than vagrants, serving no King, only themselves. You best beware them." It was then that he felt something strike him in the helm, making a loud sound that rang in his ears for a few seconds and rattled his brains a little. He looked to where he felt the shot come from and saw nothing, but looking down he saw a blunt arrow used for hunting rabbits and the like, but this one was tipped further with cloth to make it soft. The knight picked the note and began to read, "A group of "petty archers" and "vagrants" that could shoot the buckle clean off from your fauld from two leagues away. Beware I, Claiborne, a Ranger that particularly enjoys shooting the pantaloons from man and mer alike." You couldn't tell it – nor would the knight admit it – but he was blushing from embarrassment.

**Woot, Woot! First chapter of my first story!**

**Sorry if the character description is too long or elaborate, it happens.**

**Shout out to Iron Stag! Thanks for advising me to make this account!**

**Hopefully I can get these in on a weekly basis, but I may hit roadblocks or (buhh...) writers' block.**

**Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

It was 4E 187 when that happened, Claiborne was only fifteen when he had threatened that knight. He was twenty-three now, and it was 195. He remembered that day and laughed aloud, it felt like so long ago, but it wasn't at all. He was in the tavern in Daggerfall after visiting his parents at the family farm, listening to the conversation.

He never did understand politics, even now he wondered at how these people had the patience to do courtly work, and many said that he himself had the patience of a saint! "It was a shame when Arntheim Stormcloak died," one among the crowd said, "he was one of the finer leaders I've known. I even met the man personally." Claiborne began to talk in his own head,

"Arntheim Stormcloak… Jarl Ulfric's father if I'm not mistaken. Ulfric led the Nord militia into Markarth against the Forsworn and reinstated the worship of Talos there." His thoughts were interrupted when a tankard slid past him. He decided it was then that he decided to leave to hunt near the farm, plenty of deer there to terrorize the corn.

Claiborne opened and closed the field gate, only to have his Breton mother Anastasia wrap him up in a big hug. "Oh, my little cub, how are you?"

"I'm fine mother, I'm always fine."

"Oh, I know, I'm just always so worried you might catch Rockjoint or something-"

"Mother, even if I did, we have plenty of potions at the hall to take care of that." Claiborne smiled at his mother when his Bosmeri father's voice came from afar,

"Claiborne! How have you been?" Thurrin said with a great bounce in his voice.

"I'm very good, father, thank you. How's the farm been?"

"Oh the deer and rabbits are going out at night and eating everything, your mother and I have done what we can about it but they keep coming."

"I was just about to go hunting up on that aft ridge, I should be able to considerably drop their numbers by the time I'm done."

"Alright," Anastasia said, "but don't eat everything you get like you did last time!"

"Don't worry mother, I'll have plenty of furs and meats for you when I return."

It was a week later, Claiborne was in his blind again, scouting the road, watching as people came and went. It wasn't as frequented by bandits as it used to be, but a few foolhardy bands would attack on occasion, taking a firebolt or an arrow as Claiborne so chose. He watched in disgust as two Thalmor mages went along, but he was alarmed at what came next,

"These foolish Bretons are worse than the Nords in Skyrim, I swear," one Justiciar said.

"Quite," the other replied, "but they will bend knee soon enough, King Allalian is gathering forces to lay siege on the Dirreni Tower. He won't attack yet though, he wants to ensure victory."

At that, Claiborne put arrows in their backs and went to tell his Commanding Officer.

**Yay! New chapter! Not much happened but hopefully it's readable.**

**For anyone who hasn't, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read Dragonfire and Dragonsoul by Iron Stag, he's an amazing writer!**

**Tune in next week to meet a few more... recognisable characters...**


	3. Chapter 3

"Sir," Claiborne said to his commanding officer, carrying the message of the Thalmor attack.

"Claiborne, this must be important for you to come to me, instead of dealing with it yourself."

"Sir, I come with grave news, the Thalmor are planning an attack on the Adamantine Tower." Claiborne's officer looked grim,

"You're sure?"

"Yes, sir, I've heard it from the horse's mouth, we need to alert the kings and contact the seers."

"Yes," his commanding officer said, "I'm sending you to talk to the steward of the Queen of Wayrest." Claiborne got an annoyed look in his eye,

"Yes, sir!" Claiborne flew from the hall used as the High Rock Rangers' HQ, onto a horse which he rode hard to Wayrest. Claiborne came up to the gates and hitched his horse, whom promptly fell over, panting hard, "Sorry, old boy, you know that I'm not the best rider. Stay here and get a drink, you'll need it for the trip back." At that he entered the city, passing familiar inns and shops, even Alfherth's Bookarium. He entered the Queen's castle and was met by the guards,

"What do you want, _Ranger_?" one of them said.

"I seek an audience with the steward, yeoman," Claiborne said in an overbearing tone, showing that he had little time or want to be there.

"Proceed," the guard scowled at him, "_Ranger_." Claiborne proceeded with haste to meet the queen's steward, a Breton woman named Delphine, a Great War veteran who held it over everyone's heads.

"Delphine," Claiborne said, taking a knee, "I bring urgent news to you from the commander of the High Rock Rangers."

"Claiborne," Delphine said with an air of snootiness, "have you been reduced to a common courier? What is this news?"

"It regards the Thalmor, steward, they plan to attack the Direnni Tower." Delphine stumbled, shock suddenly taking her.

"You need to take this information to the Queen, Ranger."

"No," Claiborne said, "you hold more of her ear than me or my associates can ever hope to, she'll take it to the other Kings and Queens and we'll prepare for war."

"You're very sure of yourself and your plan, aren't you? Why did you come to me, and not the Queen?" Delphine asked.

"Firstly, by the Twelve, woman, I don't want to be here either, second, I just told you. If everything goes well, we can defend ourselves from this threat." With that, Claiborne rose and left, mounting his horse and going back to the Rangers' Hall, wanting badly to hear the verdict from the seers. He entered and looked immediately at the man prostrated on the ground.

"Yes," the man said as he rose, "they will come in three years' time."

**Yay! New chapter! Almost didn't get around to writing this one.**

**Shoutout to a few folks this week, first is Iron Stag, as per usual, second is N3kkra, I'm on her Skyrim RP Forum, and finally breakingelle, my chapters will get longer soon, just wait...**


	4. Chapter 4

It was now 4E 198, Claiborne and the kings and queens of the kingdoms of High Rock around a group of five far-seers, the Direnni Tower casting a shadow at their feet and looming over like a stone giant. Claiborne stood among the monarchs for not only had he delivered the message that gathered them here, but also his commanding officer had died the year before. Claiborne did not grieve him then, but was a bit sad now, wishing he was there to laud his accomplishment and fight beside him. One of the far-seers turned to look at the men and women behind him, "We need something to tether with, but as of now, we think that they are coming by sea." Claiborne said nothing, firing an ice spike toward the sea at incredible velocity.

The far-seers tethered to the magical shard of flying ice, and what was actually seconds passed like hours, each one in the crowd on edge, sweating with anxiety, some more than others. The far-seers all stood up, and one turned to Claiborne, "They come by sea, they will use a full-frontal attack." Each monarch turned and started barking orders, which went down the chain of command. Claiborne ignored them and asked the forty-eight Rangers behind him,

"Did you all hear that?" Claiborne began with a smile most sinister, "The Dominion comes by sea to take the oldest structure in Tamriel, and the most revered site in all of High Rock! We must defend the tower with our lives, disperse equally between the turrets of the higher and lower parts of the tower, I will go to the top and defend until the battle below calls me." Each went off on his or her own, Claiborne dashed up the tower, standing high upon a turret, looking over the landscape, soon to be ravaged by war.

The Dominion came quicker than any thought possible, with the first few Khajiiti raiders being finished quickly, but the main host soon arrived, Altmer footsoldiers and battlemages marched in front of Bosmer archers. Claiborne overlooked the battle, far below, and saw an arrow fly up at him, he caught it, tossing it to one of his fellow Rangers to aid in the fight. Claiborne charged an attack that he hadn't used in nearly a decade. Claiborne flung his hand forward, shooting a firebolt with enough force to quickly propel his hand backwards, which was repeated quickly with the second hand, and he started doing it quicker and quicker until it looked as if he were a portal with a constant stream of firebolts coming out. Claiborne continued until a ladder propped up in front of him, he wondered at how a siege ladder could be so tall as to reach the heights of the tower, but had no time to consider anything. He got on the ladder, seeing that it reached all the way down to the battle below. Using magicka, he fired himself down with incredible force, ramming into Aldmeri forces on the way down, it took him a full minute to get to the bottom.

Claiborne blew past the fighting and into the front of the battle, just to see the whole of the host charging toward him. He cupped his hands at the left side of his waist and a little fireball formed, it was a small, red flickering thing that soon turned a bright orange, and orange to yellow, yellow to blue. The last transition that he needed took a decent amount of time, and he hoped that he had enough. The hot air flew up around him, causing his hair to blow upward as well. The grass started to scald, char, and smolder for a few metres in a circle around him. He closed his eyes and sang a song he made up, long ago, when he made this devastating spell, about charging the attack. He felt the ball turn white, it looked a lot like a magelight spell, now, as he made it bigger, about the size of a goat's head. Claiborne saw a foot soldier raise a sword and run at him, and at the last possible moment, he let his spell loose, a white wall of fire reducing his foes to ash at a great distance away. The attack, a continuous blaze, drained him of magicka quickly, but he had bought some time, at least.

Claiborne quickly pulled out his bow, firing on the now distanced enemy with incredible speed and accuracy. Two Rangers ran to his aid, attacking just as he, two became six, and it really seemed like they stood a chance of defending the Direnni Tower. They started to fire in unison, split seconds between the thunderous whacking sound of arrows being fired. Claiborne saw that the enemy was closing the gap, little by little, and shouted, "MELEE!" His fellow Rangers whipped out their steel weapon of choice, axes, swords, maces, hammers, and even daggers rung as they were pulled out, Claiborne pulled an axe, himself, and ran to meet the enemy.

They ran into the fray, steel meeting steel with crashes and clangs, the High Rock host followed suit, and the battle now took place farther from the tower, just as Claiborne had intended. A few Dominion stragglers managed to pass through the battle, only to be easily picked off by the Rangers betwixt the turrets. It was then that Claiborne saw the one responsible for the attack…

King Allalian.

Claiborne drove his axe deep into the forehead of the elf before him, taking a dagger from the falling corpse and throwing it at the Dominion's regent and leader. The knife struck Allalian in the shoulder, digging itself into the bone and rendering his arm useless for the time being. Allalian called for a retreat, and the host of High Rock started to fight even harder, as many disregarded this command, and it led to their doom. Claiborne looked on as the enemy headed back to their ships.

He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and everything went dark.

**Hello, everybody! Hope you like the newest chapter!**

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